


The Widows

by Blxry_fxce



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Criminal!Peter, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), More characters to be added, More tags to be added, SHIELD agent!Steve, criminal!Bucky, criminal!natasha, not cannon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:13:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23557375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blxry_fxce/pseuds/Blxry_fxce
Summary: Bucky and Natasha have a good thing going. He seduces and marries rich men, and then he kills them. They split the money between them, then they run to a new state to play the same game over again.When shield agent Steve Rogers gets told he’s going under cover as a rich guy to catch the notorious Black Widows, he’s not sure what to expect, but Bucky Barnes is certainly not what he saw coming.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Male Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 14
Kudos: 37





	1. Can’t breath when I’m around you.

**Author's Note:**

> A little intro to give background on what Bucky does and a little look into his head?

The plan was simple. Bucky and his soon to be dead husband, Matthew would sit down for dinner at 7 sharp. They would be eating steak. Extra rare for the occasion, it’s not every day your husband dies, after all.

The steak itself will be marinated in peanut oil, Matthew had an extreme peanut allergy. The personal chef will take the fall if there’s any suspicion of foul play. After all, he was the one who prepared the meal.

All Bucky had to do was distract Adrian (the aforementioned chef) while Natasha snuck into the kitchen and switched the steaks on Adrian’s cutting board for the peanut oil steaks. 

Bucky wasn’t thrilled for the meal, he wasn’t particularly fond of peanuts. He could only hope that the taste was faint enough not to turn his stomach. Also, watching someone die of anaphylaxis didn’t do wanders for the appetite. However, he would do what he had to, Matthew was a big target. He had a cool 5 million sitting on his shoulders and no family to dispute his will leaving it all to his dear husband. Even though technically, the Will was false. Natasha had whipped up a convincing looking fake that left everything to Bucky. All he had to do was sell the house, make a quick get away, and split the money with Natasha.

All in all this has been one of Bucky’s easier targets to date. He’s done this upwards of 15 times in his 28 years of life, all under different fake names of course. Needless to say, he knew what he was doing. 

Back to tonight’s plan though, Bucky had some work he needed to do. First, he needed to get ready. He needed to look his best for his dinner plan of course. So, a nice suit was in order, and a freshly shaven face of course. He’d already sent all the staff- excluding Adrian- home for the night, citing their hard work deserving a night off. Adrian would be sent home as soon as the meal was prepared. There was no room for error tonight.

Which is how Bucky found himself drinking red wine out of the most ornate wine glass he’d ever seen in his life at 6:45. His evening was going flawlessly. Adrian was probably back to his cozy apartment by now. Poor, sweet Matthew was taking a nice shower. Natasha was probably off being her terrifying self as usual. 

Bucky began to set the table around him. All the silverware going in it’s proper place around the plate, the set up was flawless, as usual. Bucky was an over achiever and he was going to exceed expectations tonight.

“Hey, sugar,” Matthew drawled as he leaned into Bucky’s back, leaving gentle kisses on his necks.

It’s go time , Bucky thought to himself. He plastered on a fake smile, turning in Matthew’s arms, “Hi, honey. How are you? Another long day at the office?”

“Mmm, you know how it is. Did you do all this for me? Such a sweet little thing,” Matthew grinned against his neck. Bucky was not, in fact, a sweet little thing. He was 6 feet tall and a criminal. Why did people always think he was sweet?

“All for you,” Bucky flashed him a million watt smile. “Why don’t you sit down? I had Adrian make your favorite, and I think it’s gonna be extra good tonight.”

“Well, I can’t say no to that, can I?” Matthew asked pulling out a seat.

“No, I suppose you can’t,” Bucky drawled, walking to the kitchen. 

He could barely suppress a shudder of excitement as he grabbed the two plates. Steak and asparagus, a classic meal no one would question. Bucky leisurely placed the plate in front of Matthew. He received a salacious grin in lieu of a response. 

“Try the steak honey, I think you’ll love it,” Bucky remarks casually as he sits down. Matthew immediately cut off a rather large chunk of the expensive meat, shoving the whole fork full into his mouth at once. For a second he has no reaction at all. Then slowly, his eye brows begin to furrow, and Bucky knows at once he’s done it. Matthew slowly swallows the bite down as hives begin to over take his mouth. Then slowly, he grows more panicked as he realizes he can’t breathe. 

“What’s the matter, baby?” Bucky drawls smoothly, sipping his wine. “Cat got your tongue?” 

By the time Matthew drops out of his chair, face turning a strange shade of purple, Bucky’s finished his wine. He never did end up having to touch the gross peanut steak after all. 

Now’s the real show, Bucky thinks to himself. Gently reaching into Matthew’s pocket he extracts his phone. He shakes his head a few times, focusing on an old memory. Getting in to character. Shattered glass, blood everywhere, the scent of smoke thick and cloying. Someone screaming, who was that? How did he know that voice? His hands shook lightly from the memory. With that he picked up the phone and dialed.

“911? There’s been an emergency. My husband, he-he’s dead,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was kind of an idea I was playing with while I’m stuck in quarantine. Not exactly sure how it’s going to play out yet. 
> 
> Talk to me in the comments, give feedback and shit! Criticisms is greatly appreciated! Doesn’t even have to be constructive. Tell me I’m the worst with no explanation & I’ll literally thank you. 
> 
> That’s on being Gen Z.


	2. Steve and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little intro for Steve and his thoughts.

Steve Rogers was having a decidedly not good day. He woke up nearly 20 minutes late, so his morning yoga routine was totally thrown off (yes he does yoga, stress management is good for someone with his job, shut up Tony.) When he tried to take a shower his water heater was broken, so his options were cold or colder. However the heat issue was made up for when he spilled scalding hot coffee all down his front. 

So, an outfit change later he was finally en route to work. The loud sounds of New York filtered in one ear and out the other- he didn’t have time to process everything going on around him right now. 

He didn’t notice his shirt was on backwards until Tony pointed it out when he finally got to work. Steve thought he probably wasn’t going to live that down for a good 10 years. He was allowed to have bad days too, thank you very much. 

By the time all his so called friends had got their dickish-ness out of the way and he had turned his shirt back the right way he was being called in to a briefing. 

“So, we have two dangerous spiders on our hands?” Tony remarks loudly.

“We have two Black Widows, Tony. Not some cute spiders. Two highly dangerous people who are believed to be marrying rich men and then killing them for their money.” Fury says about as calmly as he can.

“Dude, if they’re claiming the money from their will, just go arrest them or something. Their identity has to be documented somewhere. Maybe in a police report or something,” Sam says with a shrug.

“It’s not that easy. They’re good. They use different identities every time. Once they have the money all documentation of them is erased, like it never existed at all. They’re chameleons, they can turn themselves into anyone they need to be,” Fury says, obviously frustrated. “We’ve only gotten a partial description of one of them. Red headed female, probably close to 30.”

“Alright, what do you plan to do?” Steve asked.

“Well, Steve, I’m glad you asked. We’ve found a pattern. They bounce between New York, Oregon and Texas. We believe that they’re coming back to New York for their newest target. So we need you to go undercover, Steve.” 

“Why me, Fury? Wouldn’t it make more sense to send in, Stark? Since he’s, you know, actually rich?” Steve asks.

“No can do. Stark is too high profile. They’re not gonna want to go for someone who’ll be missed. That’s why we’re gonna make you a nice little cover. Orphan, no siblings, no spouse, no one to inherit the massive amount of money your parents left you.” Fury states calmly.

“Alright, so his cover story is just his life story? Original, Fury,” Tony smirks.

“Shut the fuck up, Tony,” Steve says through gritted teeth.

“Steve, that was a bad language word. Dollar in the swear jar. C’mon, cough it up, you have no reason not to with your new found richness,” Tony had a particular brand of smug that Steve found vaguely nauseating. 

“So what? I’m just gonna go sit in a big house in a rich neighborhood?” 

“Yes, you’re going to go live a nice, normal life in a big house. Go for a run, by organic groceries and play the fucking piano if that’s what it takes to get into the rock mindset. The Widows seem to find their target via jogging in rich neighborhoods, presumably casing the houses, or attending dinner parties and such around, so make friends and get invited to places. Be the social butterfly you never were,” Fury states. 

So, that’s how Steve finds himself a mere 10 hours later standing in a grande entrance hall of one of the largest houses he had ever seen in his life.  Well this outta be good , he thought to himself.

Steve had insisted on not having a bunch of bugs placed al over the house, if he was going to live here he was going to do so freely without feeling like he was being listened to every second of the day. So, he supposed all he had to do now was wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if you can tell but I wrote this while listening exclusively to the soundtrack from birds of prey and I regret nothing.
> 
> Very short but it’s just an intro so chapter length should improve just as soon as I figure out how to write.
> 
> Brutal criticism welcome and encouraged.
> 
> I’m a gen Z that knows no fear and craves pain.


	3. I’m going to kashoot myself.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title has very little to do with the chapter. It’s just how I feel right now.

“Alright, how do you feel about Dixie Normous as your new fake name?” Natasha asks.

“Gotta be honest, not great,” Bucky grunts as he carries another box into the house. They had three houses one in New York, Oregon and Texas. So they had a base of operation in all three places they ran scams. They certainly had enough money at this point. 

“Noted. What about Moe Lester?” 

“Imma have to veto that one right out of the gate.”

“Hugh Jass?” 

“Too on the nose.”

“Ben Dover?”

“Listen can we please stop naming dumb ass Kahoot names? Jesus you’re spending too much time around Peter,” Bucky exclaims shaking his head. Natasha and their resident computer genius had a special bond for sure.

“Alright, alright. Get cleaned up. I wanna meet Peter and get the new ID’s he made for us. He already cleared out all the files from Matthew. Easy open and close case, no one’ll miss the files,” Natasha says.

“What’d you actually end up going with in the end?”

“I’m Aria Reyes from Florida and you’re my childhood best friend Jamie Smith. Moved here after my parents died in a car wreck. You were orphaned at 5 and lived with my family up until they died. Think I might bleach my hair for this one. Seems like a kinda fun change, what do ya think?” Natasha asks twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

“Story sounds good. Bleach your hair if you want. It’ll work well for us, red is super recognizable as well so it might be good to change it up for a while,” Bucky remarks, idly digging through a box. 

“Mmm. Alright, you comin’ to meet Peter with me?” 

“Nah, think I’m gonna stay here and get the place set up a little better. Should we find someone else to be faking our papers? Pete’s still in high school. Feel like it’s kinda fucked up we’re pulling him in to this.” 

“Bucky, he’s an orphan. All his family is dead. He’s really fucking smart, and I’d sure as hell prefer he works for us and get fair pay instead of gettin’ arrested dealing drugs. He’s smart. I’ll pay for him to go to college, I’ve got money to spare, then one day he’ll go legit. Work somewhere big, like Stark Industries, he always talk about that place.” Natasha puts her hand over his trying to reassure him.

All Bucky does is nod quietly. Bucky has done some truly bad things in his life (I.e. killing people with his bare hands to steal their money) and never felt remorse for them before, but Peter Parker was a good kid, and he felt bad for pulling him into this. Well, technically Peter had seeked them out first, but either way. This was likely the only remorse Bucky would feel all year so he was determined to cherish what emoting felt like for its short lived life span. 

Aaaand yep, that’s the end of the emotions. Bucky thinks to himself. Enough of that, there’s work to be done after all. 

~~~~~ 

Bucky knew that Natasha was the single most evil entity in this earth when his alarm clock blares at 5 in the morning. He’d only gone to sleep 2 short hours before, and he knew for a fact he hadn’t set an alarm.

“Mornin sunshine,” Natasha says grinning behind a glass of water. She looks perfectly happy for someone who’s awake at an ungodly hour.

“You can fuck right off to hell. Why the fuck am I up at 5?” Bucky imbues his voice with as much annoyance as he possibly can.

“Time for a nice morning jog. Got a nice neighborhood around and Peter got me the code for the gate. Go shower and put on the blue running shorts. You know the ones that make your ass look outta this world. We’ll be there right when people start leavin’ for work so they’ll see us. You take the south end I’ll take the north.”

“Yes, obviously I know what shorts you’re talking about, but you should know by now my ass looks outta this world at all the times, hun,” Bucky says with an obnoxious wink. Even he’s annoyed with himself for that one.

“That was quite possibly the most gay thing you’ve ever said. And I’ve listened to you call rich dude ‘daddy’ before. That was a trip for sure.”

“Alright shut the fuck up, I’m takin’ a shower,” Bucky huffs, the sounds of Natasha snorting behind him almost drawing a smile out of his exhausted face. 

~~~~~

Bucky found himself wondering where his life had gone wrong as he jogs shirtless through a rich neighborhood, looking for a new target at 6 a.m. It wasn’t about the killing. He didn’t mind that.  It was more the why the fuck am I outside at 6 in the morning ? That overwhelmed his senses. He had to admit though, the crisp summer air felt pretty nice. 

His mind wandered as he jogged through the streets. Today was mostly just a day to establish himself around. A good way to scope out some of the people in the area without drawing too much attention. He wasn’t likely to establish serious contact with a target today. 

He was jogging past a large beige house when he saw him- tall, blonde,  very broad, and doing yoga in his front yard. Bucky slowed his jog a little, and the stranger glanced up as he jogged by and gave Bucky a small, almost shy smile.  Oh, he’s cute , Bucky thinks to himself. Bucky returns the smile without much thought as he continues on his jog. He mentally noted the stranger as he continued on his search.

~~~~~

“Alright, so I got three guys who could be a target,” Natasha says as soon as they’re back to the house. “Old guy, maybe mid 70’s, easy heart attack fake out, live in 2011. Another guy probably 50’s in 2021, sports car, obviously no kids. Then one probably 30’s or 40’s, in 2030, spent an almost indecent amount of time watching me run without a shirt, pretty easy target.”

“Mmm, a lot more productive than me. One guy, about 30. Lived in 1987. Probably the biggest house on the block. Out doin’ yoga. Seemed shy. Definitely no kids, no wedding ring. Probably no pre-existing health issues. Hot as fuck though. Like, seriously hot,” Bu my sighs almost dreamily.

“Damn, Barnes! Keep it in your pants. You wanna hit your guy then?” Natasha questions.

“Depends, you wanna marry this time?” 

“Nah, you know you’re better at putting up with the guys than I am. You said 1987? I’ll have Peter look him up.” 

~~~~~

“Hey, Pete, how’s it goin’?” Bucky asks pulling Peter into the kitchen.

“The usual. Hacking cell phones for cheap jobs and deciding if drug dealing is better or worse than what I’m doing already,” Peter shrugs.

“Alright well, don’t sell drugs? Or do, it’d be pretty hypocritical of me to tell you what to do,” Bucky says conversationally. 

“Oooh, wait that’s not a bad idea. We could knock out a smaller gang and sell whatever they got on hand,” Natasha exclaims, plans forming in her mind already.

“Slow down, maybe let’s stick to being murderers for a minute before we focus on being drug dealers? That’s can be a fall back plan. Or better yet, be mercenaries as a fall back plan! Oooh that’s not bad, Nat!” Bucky could feel his brain going a mile a minute now.

“Alright, can we maybe focus back in on your new target before I become and accessory for murder?” 

“Pete, you have literally helped us scam and kill so many people. You realize that right? We’re psychos,” Bucky says, way too excited for the message.

“Yes, I’m overly aware that you kill people. God wish you’d fuckin’ kill me if it got me out of this weird ass conversation,” Peter muttered looking like he wished he was anywhere but his current location.

“I’m pretty sure kids shouldn’t swear. Watch your language kid. Someone’s gonna think you’re a thug if you keep on talkin’ like that, kiddo,” Bucky says smartly.

“Oh yeah, wouldn’t wanna seem like a thug,” Peter exclaims, his eyes lit up with faux innocence. “Anyways, wanna know about you target?”

“Oh shit, yeah, forgot what we were here for!” Natasha exclaims. 

“Jesus Christ are you guys on drugs? Fuckin’ psychos,” Peter mutters. “Alright, his name is Grant Vincent. He’s 27, parents died five years ago, no remaining family. All his money is from what his parents left him when they died, he has upwards of $100 million. He’s retired so he doesn’t do much. He had a gym he frequents, doesn’t have much movement in the area yet, he moved in middle of last week. He has casual friendships with his neighbors, but nothing serious enough that they’d look into his death farther than surface deep. If you can get him, you’re in for a serious pay out.”

Bucky nodded his head slowly as Peter places a picture of Grant on the counter. He looked a dice of god damn all American beef. Blonde, blue eyed, and stupidly massive. Very much Bucky’s type. 

Oh, this is gonna be fun .

“I think we found ourselves a new target,” Natasha says, a malicious grin spreading across her lips. Peter looked vaguely unsettled at it, and Bucky can’t say he blamed him.

Alright, Grant Vincent. Let’s see what we can do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🌸✨🌿 c r i t i c i s e m e d a d d y 🌿✨🌸
> 
> Why is anyone reading this, this is why everyone hates me. 
> 
> Sorry for my gen z bullshit, I don’t know when to stop.


	4. The type of ass you write sonnets about

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the first half of this chapter at 4 in the morning, so Steve being an absolute disaster was modeled strongly off of myself. Then I decided I kinda liked that vibe & I’m keeping it!

Steve hadn’t been undercover for long at this point. About two weeks in total. He’s doing his best to keep tabs on everyone around him, all his neighbors seem like perfectly respectable people. One of them even invited him to a barbecue three days from now. That’d been a bit confusing, this place hadn’t seen like a barbecue type neighborhood, but he wasn’t going to complain about free burgers.

Street activity was fairly high. Lots of power walking ladies in their 40’s, young moms jogging with their strollers, and the brunette. Everyday around 6 a.m. a tall brunette with an ass to die for jogs by while Steve does his yoga. He seemed nice enough, never actually going farther than exchanging smiles and a flirtatious wink with Steve. He’s cute, Steve decided, but not dangerous. 

Steve was- shockingly, in contact with Tony most out of everyone else working at shield. Tony knew how to act around rich people, after all. So, Steve would deal with al the annoying comments and jabs coming from him for the benefit of the mission. 

He was trying to shop at the grocery store when he saw him again (emphasis on trying, why is everything organic and gluten free?) There was standing the hot brunette, digging through a tray of peaches.  Fitting , Steve couldn’t help but think to himself. Seriously, did he own an article of clothing that didn’t make his ass look great? Because all signs point to no. Steve decided he should probably get closer, talk to him. He can at least rule him out as a suspect that way. 

“Hey! I-uh, I saw you jogging out the other day-“ Steve stops abruptly when hot brunette turns to face him. Good god, he’s got the prettiest baby blue eyes Steve has ever seen before. “Sorry, uh, my name’s Grant.”  Wow, Steve, nice recovery. Jesus Christ can you focus for two minutes and stop being weird?

“Hey, yeah, you’re always out doin’ yoga when I go for a run! Nice to meet ya, Grant. I’m Jamie,” thank god hot brunette-Jamie, his name is Jamie, didn’t seem that weirded out by Steve. He just kept up a mega watt smile. 

“Nice to meet ya too! You just move in?” Steve asks trying to casually lean up against a shopping cart, only to almost fall on his face when it starts to roll always.  That’s right, wheels . He talks to one hot guy and suddenly he can barely function anymore. What a gay disaster.

“Careful there, pal. Wouldn’t wanna damage that pretty face of yours,” oh yeah, this guys a real charmer for sure. “But yeah, me and my friend, Aria just moved down here from Florida. Gotta say, lovin’ the weather for sure!” Jamie laughed, and dear god was it an amazing laugh.

“Oh yeah, bet it’s real warm in Florida. Must be a nice change,” Steve wasn’t really sure what he was saying, he was sort of sucked into Jamie’s eyes. They truly were an amazing mixture of colors.

“Oh yeah, practically gotta be shirtless all the time with how hot it is there!”  I wouldn’t mind that. “But I think the people are the best part about New York. Everyone’s been so nice!”

Steve raised an eyebrow, “alright, now I KNOW you’re lying, nobody’s ever been nice in New York before.”

“I don’t know, Grant you seem pretty nice if you ask me,” Jamie looked him down and then back up with a little smirk.  Fuck, that’s hot .“Hey, so this might be kinda forward of me, but do you wanna grab a coffee or somethin’ sometime?” 

Steve watched him bite his lip with a little sparkle in his eye and knew immediately that he was screwed, Jamie was gonna have him wrapped around his finger real quick if Steve wasn’t careful. Steve responded without thinking, “Yeah, I’d love to!” The next thing he knew Jamie was grinning like a kid on Christmas and pulling on Steve’s arm. And what was he doin- writing his number. He’s genuinely writing his number on the inside of Steve’s wrist. Where did he even get the pen? Doesn’t matter that’s a question for a different time.

“I hate to bail, but my friend’s waiting out in the car for me. Call me though, Grant!” Jamie called over his shoulder as he all but sashayed out of the store. 

Hot damn , was the main theme in his head for the rest of the afternoon. Grocery shopping turned out to be disappointing though. Steve failed to buy anything other than peaches. 

~~~~~ 

By the time he got home Steve had finally recomposed himself. He needed to focus better, he wasn’t just here for fun. This was work. There’s a dangerous criminal around, and for all he knew, Jamie could be a part of it. 

Alright, new priorities. Maybe Steve should make a list, to make sure things stay on track? No, stupid idea. Don’t leave a paper trail where anyone can find it. 

First thing’s first, he needs to go on a date with Bucky. He’s a good place to start. New to the neighborhood and the ground work is already started. Then he’ll go from there. So long as he takes it slow and seriously everything should work out fine. Precision was more important than speed in this operation. At the moment it felt like Steve was doing a lot to try and psych himself up for this case, almost like he was trying to convince himself he could do this.  Oh well, whatever it takes to keep the op going.

~~~~~

It isn’t until after Steve has taken a shower, ate a pitiful excuse for lunch (seriously, who burns Mac n cheese?) and spent about 20 minutes pacing in his over the top sitting that he deems himself ready to text Jamie. 

This, is of course followed by another 20 minutes of drafting said text.

Hey, Jamie my dude!

Hi, Jamie. This is Grant Vincent. From the store.

Hiya, Jamie! It’s the hot yoga guy!

I know where you live. 

Hey Jim-Jam, long time no see.

This was the exact point that Steve lost hope in himself ever being able to sustain a serious relationship. Seriously? Now he couldn’t even text one hot brunette? It’s like Jamie just fried his brain. Alright, guess it’s time to call in the big guns.

“Hey, Stevie! What’s up man?” Sam answered his phone- thank god.

“Sam, this is extremely important. I’m really fucking counting on you for this one,” Steve was slightly panicking at this point. Safe to say it was obvious.

“Hey dude, calm down. Just take a deep breath and start from the beginning,” Sam said patiently.

“Sam, I don’t know how to talk to guys anymore.”

“....excuse me?”

“Sam this is serious, I’m on a case about black widows, and I met possibly the hottest brunette I have ever laid eyes on-“

“Inaccurate, but continue,” Sam interjects.

“THE HOTTEST brunette,” Steve reaffirms to the benefit of absolutely no one. “He asked me to go get coffee with him and gave me his number. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to text him though.”

“Dude, you’re way over complicating it. Just tell him it’s you and set up a time for coffee. It’s really not that hard. Besides, it should be easy, he’s a suspect after all.”

“Yeah, just because he’s a suspect doesn’t mean he isn’t hot as hell, Sam. You shoulda seen his ass. Nicest ass I’ve ever seen. That’s the type of ass you write sonnets about,” Steve sighed dreamily.

“Okay, gross, first of all. No one writes sonnets anymore grandpa. Not since like, Shakespeare. God you’re old. I’m hanging up now.”

“We’re the same age, Sam!” Steve’s not sure if Sam heard him or not before he hung up the phone, but he feels good about the conversation either way. Okay, he can do this! No big deal, just text the hot suspect!

Hey, Jamie! This is Grant, I know a pretty nice coffee place near here if you wanna check it out sometime?

Steve sent the text before he had enough time to over think it. That wasn’t so bad, was it? Now he just had to wait it out until his phone buzzed. Lord- this was harder than it seemed. 

His phone chimed a couple minutes later, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

Hey, Grant! I’d love to come check out that coffee place with you. Are you doing anything tomorrow around 8?

Tomorrow at 8 a.m. That was fast, but Steve could make that work. He lived under pressure all the time. He can make this happen! 

Tomorrow at 8 sounds perfect, I’ll meet you there?

Alright, he can make this work. Now he just needs to go pick out a coffee shop and an outfit that both seem rich enough to make a Black Widow target him. Should be easy, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I love you. Yeah, you specifically. You’re a great person. 
> 
> Also go listen to Sway With Me by Saweetie, because it’s all I’ve listened to since 2 a.m. last night. 
> 
> :)


	5. A bank robbery at 17 is a financially beneficial decision

Everything seemed to be going smoothly for Bucky. Merely days after he had arrived, his target had already approached him. He’d introduced himself, and he’d been nervous. All stutter-y. It was cute, really. Either way, they were getting coffee tomorrow, and that’s all that really matters. 

“Alright, 8 in the morning tomorrow, coffee with Grant. Pretty good opportunity to get to know him and shit,” Bucky says to Natasha, wandering into the kitchen. 

“Okay. You got clothes and shit nice enough on hand?” Natasha questions, liberally painting hair dye onto her hair. He thinks she bleaching it maybe? Sue him, he doesn’t know how hair dye works.

“Yeah, believe it or not I was very recently married to a rich guy who enjoyed taking me to fancy restaurants. I have nice enough clothes,” Bucky remarked while he dug through the fridge. He could almost hear Natasha rolling her eyes. 

“Hey so, Peter had a good idea. You know how he does freelance?” Bucky nods in confirmation, “Well, he gets asked quite often if he knows any mercenaries or assassins or shit. They pay well for some of those jobs, and we pretty much made a profession out of killing people anyways. What do you think about running a couple jobs?” 

“Sounds like a good idea. Easy enough money probably. Give Peter the go ahead to mention us, but don’t mention our extra curricular. We’ve been doing so well and being so careful. Not gonna let it go to waste now.” 

“Alright, I’ll give him the go ahead. Are you makin’ dinner?” 

“Not if I can help it. Hate cooking. You in the mood for pizza or Italian?” Bucky questions pulling out a stack of takeout menus.

“I could go for pasta,” Natasha replies.

“Burgers it is!” Bucky replies joyfully, barely dodging the shoe thrown at his head for his efforts.

~~~~~ 

Bucky arrived at the coffee shop at 8 o’clock precisely. The place was nice. Big and very hipster with large windows and exposed brick. All the little house plants made it feel homier. Definitely a rich person coffee shop. 

He dressed almost casually in a pair of ridiculously tight jeans and a silky button down shirt, he had it on good authority that his ass looked amazing in these jeans. First impressions were imperative, and Bucky had come prepared. 

Grant appeared to also have come prepared if the size smedium shirt he had on was anything to go by. Seriously, Bucky wasn’t complaining- because god damn- but that was definitely the wrong size for him. Bucky briefly fantasized about Grant flexing hard enough to rip the seams out, but cut that thought off before he could get to attached to it. 

Grant must have spotted Bucky, because his face lit up with a huge smile that had Bucky mirroring it reflexively. Shaking his jittery muscles out, Bucky walked up to the table Grant was sitting at.  Alright Barnes, you’ve got this. Nothing you haven’t done a million times before. Just because he’s hot, like really fucking hot, doesn’t mean you can’t function anymore. Jesus, he is really hot though, isn’t he?  Fuck, no Bucky can’t think like that. Steve is his target. So what if he’s, objectively, hot as fuck. Bucky Barnes has never fallen for a target before, and he’s sure as hell not going to now. 

Shit I probably say something, it’s been way too long.

In the end, Grant beat him to it. “Hey, Jamie! How ya doin’?”

“I’m alright, how are you?” Bucky returns plopping gracefully into the seat.

“I’m well,” Grant replies. There’s an awkward silence for a second, but it seems to stretch for minutes on end. Grant really is throwing Bucky off his game, isn’t he? 

“You want coffee or somethin’? It’s on me,” Bucky drawls smoothly, attempting to regain his footing.

“Yeah I’d love something. Never been here though, any suggestions?” Grant seems relieved that the tension has been effectively broke.

“Mmm, never been here either. Not sure I can give ya a good answer.”

“How ‘bout you just order me anything that sounds good and I know I’ll love it, doll.” Ooh, Bucky could really get behind Grant calling him doll. 

Bucky walked back to his and Grant’s table with two very under sized and over priced coffees. Fucking hipsters.

“Alright, an iced Americano for you, and something with so many adjective I had enough time to write an email while the barista recited my order. I think it might be caramel?” This at least got a little laugh out of Grant. Nice to know Bucky hadn’t completely lost his game.

Grant took a drink from his coffee and grimaced slightly, trying to cover his cough. “It uh, it’s great, Jamie! How’d you know?”

“Ahh, you know. Picked the two weirdest sounding things I could find,” Bucky states casually. He finally takes a sip of his coffee, immediately choking at the taste, “Jesus fuck, that’s the worst thing I’ve ever tasted. Holy shit. Is yours this bad too?”

“Yeah gotta be honest the coffee’s really shit here,” Grant admitted with a laugh. 

“Alright, trade me. Lemme try that,” Bucky makes grabby hands for the coffee, which Grant hands over easily. “Holy fucking dick, that truly is terrible. Who the fuck is buying coffee here? This was $5!”

“Honestly? No idea. The coffee is truly, result terrible. The vibes in this place though? Off the charts. They’re playing fucking Doja Cat right now. I thought hipsters only listened to Tongue Tied and Pumped up Kicks,” Grant looks around the place considering my for a second, “I gotta be honest though, just a little secret between you and I? I don’t know jack shit about hipsters.” 

“Yeah pal, I can tell,” Bucky laughs out, “but that’s okay. Honestly I don’t either. How do you feel about splittin’ outta here and goin’ on a walk instead?”

“I think that’s a great idea, Jamie,” Grant’s grin was concerningly mischievous.

~~~~~

It was almost 2 in the afternoon by the time that Bucky got back to the house. Natasha looked up from her phone briefly when Bucky slammed the door just on this side of too harsh, and then slowly melted down it into a sitting position. 

“What’s got you all fucked up, Bucky bear?” She asked, peering over the back of the couch.

“He’s hot. He’s also like, really cute. Like stops to pet every dog he sees on the street cute. Also there was a little bunny that started following him in the park. Like a fucking Disney princess. Who the hell just get followed by a baby bunny? And he wore this shirt- god damn that shirt is going to be in every dream I have for a month. A size fucking smedium on his size large body. That thing could’ve just ripped off his body with one wrong move. And nobody would have complained. Plus, he knows who Doja Cat is. Like, actively knows. He recognized one of her songs. Nat, he’s the most perfect human being to ever exist,” Bucky rants, continuing to slide downwards. By the end of his speech he’s face down on the wood floor. 

“Oh baby, you got it bad, don’t you?” Natasha sympathized, jumping over the back of the couch.

“What am I gonna do?” 

“Mission keeps on going until we call it off. You wanna call it? We can be gone by nightfall.”

“I appreciate the thought, but no. He’s a big target. We gotta stick it out. Just gotta get him outta my system, ya know? I’ll be fine, I’ve done harder work than this before.,” Bucky tried to shrug his way out of the thoughts of Grant.

“Mmm, it’ll be alright, Bucky. You’ve never actually liked a target before, so this is new. But, I promise you’ll get over it,” Natasha says solemnly. “So, how about I call over Clint and Peter, and we’ll get a ridiculous amount of pizza- you know how they are. Then put on some music and stop caring about the world for a night.”

“Mmm, that sounds nice. How did I end up with you, Natasha? I love you so damn much.”

“Yeah, this what happens when you bond over being homeless together and decide to rob a bank together.”

“Listen, all teenagers make stupid decisions,” Bucky defends lightly.

“No, getting away with a bank robbery at 17 isn’t a stupid idea. It’s a financially beneficial decision,” Natasha reasons.

Bucky couldn’t help the snort he let out. There was a pleasant warmth growing in his chest from the bantering with his beat friend, she always knew how to make him feel better. He’s not sure what he did to ever deserve someone like Natasha, but boy was he glad that he had her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m trying to make the chapters a bit longer, but I have very little concentration, so I’m super bad at long chapters and actually details.
> 
> Also, those conversations man. Wow, those were a lil not great. Super out of character, sorry about that, it’ll get better as they settle in and get more comfy around each other!
> 
> As your neighborhood Gen Z dumbass I strongly recommend you go listen to City if Angels LLusion Funk Remix by 24kGoldn because it’s truly amazing. 
> 
> :)


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